


Halo

by AKF_orever, bestGuesses



Category: Supernatural
Genre: After Cas Has Sex With April, Angelic Grace Kink (Supernatural), Bottom Dean Winchester, But Before Chuck Becomes the Big Bad, Drunk Dean Winchester, Gay Panic, Halo Kink, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Memory Loss, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Pining, Smut, Snarky Castiel (Supernatural), Tattooed Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2020-06-29 04:52:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19822933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKF_orever/pseuds/AKF_orever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestGuesses/pseuds/bestGuesses
Summary: Dean finds himself in a seedy bar in Lebanon, Kansas with no recollection of why he decided to get blind drunk. Memories come back to him in waves and they only seem to spell further confusion for him... until the brain fog clears and everything changes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by @leangreencastielmachine
> 
> Feel free to follow me on Twitter @DecaSackW  
> I plan to write more fics in the future and I have an extensive Destiel fic rec list.

**-At a bar in Lebanon, Kansas-**

_ The room is spinning. This shithole of a bar is spinning. Oh fuck, that’s never good. What did I do? What kind of creature got the jump on me? A witch? Those bitchy broads are never up to any good. No, any witch worthy of significant spell work knew better than to fuck with Dean Winchester on his home turf. So… what the hell? _

__

Dean’s memory of the day is comprised of brief flashes that are spaced in indeterminable amount of time apart and there is no way of knowing if they are in the correct order because there is never any sunlight in the bunker and aside from the bar \-  he’s pretty sure that’s the only other place he’s been today. His mind is a jungle of bitch faces (courtesy of Sam), slamming doors, hushed voices and…. boners? Oh shit. The flashback of sporting a semi while sitting at the map table with Sam and Cas is  _ really  _ not the puzzle piece he wants. He may need it but that doesn’t mean he wants it. Damn it, Cas! That asshole started all of this. He’s responsible for Dean being trashed at a shady bar just a couple miles down the road from the bunker. He’s responsible for Dean chugging the first bit of alcohol that was offered to him without being asked (and yeah, he already regrets that), as well as the shots he stopped counting an hour ago. He’s responsible… at least, that’s what Dean has to tell himself.

**-Four hours prior, in the Men of Letters Bunker-**

“Son of a--- Sam!” Dean yelled from his place beneath the covers. He’s told Sam a million times not to turn on the blender on one of the days when Dean is afforded the opportunity to take a nap.

Sam peeked through Dean’s slightly open door with his puppy eyes and said, “Sorry, Dean. You’ve already been asleep for over an hour…. I might have forgotten you were even here.”

“What, so you’re the nap police now  _ and  _ all manners get discarded after my nap exceeds an hour?”

Sam scoffs, “I don’t think you’re in a position to be lecturing me about manners.”

“My position is that you just woke me up from a nap on my day off so I’m pretty sure I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“We’re hunters Dean. We don’t get days off.”

With a lack of a decent comeback to that argument, Dean picked up one of his pillows and heaved it blindly at Sam’s head. Screw Sam’s logic, Dean deserved a decent nap at least once a month. “Get out of my room, bitch” he said as he covered up his head with his blankets and made a weak attempt at falling back asleep.

After about ten minutes of growling into his pillow, he threw back his covers and slipped on his dead man’s robe over his boxer shorts. It wasn’t exactly proper form to nap in just underwear, but if Dean was going to make some me - time, he was going to do it right. He wanted to be comfortable and quite frankly, almost all of his clothes stunk of sweat and beer or had blood stains from the monster of the week, and he wasn’t about to nap in any of those. No, his memory foam deserved more respect than that.

Speaking of bloody and smelly clothes, he really should’ve been using his interrupted nap time to be doing a load of laundry. With that thought, he scooped up as much of his dirty laundry as he could carry off of the floor by the back wall and made his way toward the laundry room at the end of the hall. He didn’t expect the washer to be in use because Sam threw his load in while he went for his run in the morning so that he had fresh clothes when he got out of the shower. Dean definitely didn’t expect the laundry room to be occupied by a half-naked angel with a white dress shirt stained in blood wadded up in his fist.

Dean was so caught off guard that all of the clothes that he had been carrying were dropped on the floor and he was left standing in the doorway with his mouth agape as he stared at his best friend’s chiseled abs and… treasure trail? No, he most definitely was  _ not _ staring at his best friend’s treasure trail!

Before he could stop himself, he was chubbing up in nothing more than his skivvies and a robe that he didn’t bother to tie before he left his room. “Cas, holy shit! What are you doing here?” Dean asked as he ungracefully tied his robe with the hand he wasn’t using to snatch Cas’s stained shirt.

Cas looked just as stunned as Dean, the only difference being that he was decidedly and not surprisingly unaffected in the pelvic region (not that Dean was looking). However, his sharp blue eyes were trained on the hand Dean was using to tie his robe as if he could see directly through Dean’s clothes. But that would mean that he could see Dean’s arousal and… nope, nope nope. Dean was not about to think about being caught getting stiff for an angel and how said angel might take care of such a situation. That was  _ not  _ happening. Dean was startled out of his thoughts after a moment by Cas’s rumbling voice.

“I uh, I’ve been standing in the stairwell outside for about an hour and snuck in when I heard the distant sound of the blender being used in the kitchen. I know that you usually use this time for sleep while Sam does his research. I wanted to remove these blood stains without being detected but I can see now that I didn’t think this through properly. Did I wake you?”

“No, you didn’t wake me, you jackass. When I asked you what you’re doing here, I meant ‘Why did you go missing for three weeks only to show up more-or-less hiding in our laundry room with bloody clothes?’”

Cas ducked his head and addressed the floor. “I went on a hunt that I knew you wouldn’t want me doing alone. I didn’t want to argue with you over the phone because I knew there was the possibility of you talking me out of going and I just couldn’t give it up. The details of the case were way too personal and I couldn’t have you affecting my ability to perform. Admittedly, the hunt didn’t go as well as I had hoped. Hence, my shirt being covered in blood.”

Dean was feeling an odd combination of anger, relief, and confusion at Cas’s confession. The fact that Cas didn’t want to tell him about a hunt and that he chose to go alone was hurtful in a way that it had no right to be. Cas was like billions of years old or some shit, he had the right to do things on his own but that didn’t mean that Dean doesn’t want to be included in his hunts. He wasn’t sure what to say but what came out was a weak, “are you okay?”

Cas’s gaze met Dean’s eyes and his features softened into a look of guilt and understanding. “Yes, I was cut up pretty badly but I used my grace to heal the significant wounds on my chest. I’m still scraped up in places but I’ll be good as new by the end of the week.”

“If you could use your grace to heal yourself, why couldn’t you use it to get the blood out of your clothes?”

“As you know, my grace isn’t fully restored so I’m running on a limited supply. I didn’t want to completely diminish my reserves for something as trivial as laundry. I wouldn’t have even used my grace on my injuries if I didn’t believe them to be substantial. I believe you or Sam would have been able to stitch me up but I was too far away at the time and I would have bled out by the time I arrived.”

Dean feels a chill run down his spine when his mind supplies him with an image of Cas bleeding out all alone. Who knows how long it would have taken for someone to find him and how many more weeks would have passed before he and Sam got news of his death. “You wouldn’t have had to travel here with critical injuries if you had just let us help you in the first place,” Dean said with just a bit too much heat behind his words.

“I know, Dean, and I’m sorry but trust me when I say it was best that you weren’t involved in this. You know how you get when it comes to dealing with cases that relate directly to the hunters that we consider family.”

Dean decided to ignore the irony in that statement in favor of asking the question he really wanted the answer to, “Cas, where have you been hunting?”

After a pause that lasted just a beat too long, Cas responded in a voice so quiet that it was almost undetectable. “I’ve been in Indiana… with Ben.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all of your comments! Keep 'em coming.

Dean turned on his heel and stalked away before he gave himself time to think twice about it. He was down the hallway and around the corner before he heard Castiel calling his name from the laundry room. Dean was hurt. Dean was overwhelmed. Dean was… confused.

Dean didn’t even exist in Ben’s world anymore so how did Castiel? None of it made sense. Dean felt like he was trying to put together a puzzle during an earthquake. His brain was so busy sputtering that he didn’t even realize he’d headed to Sam’s room until he was standing at the door. He stormed in without preamble and snagged a pair of clean sweatpants and an old Stanford hoodie from Sam’s drawer.

Dean stormed back to the laundry room with no real plan as to how he was going to handle this situation but to hell if this situation was going to get dealt with while Cas wore nothing but his old man underwear. No, he was going to wear as many clothes as Dean could put on him and they were going to deal with this like adults. No more running, not for him and not for Cas. Not again.

He was in the laundry room, slamming and locking the door behind him, before Cas had the time to turn away from adjusting the settings on the washing machine. When he turned around at the sound of the slammed door he looked startled and ashamed. It only served to piss off Dean even more than he already was.

Dean dropped the garments that he had retrieved from Sam’s room at Cas’s feet and averted his eyes to the corner by the door. “Put those on. They’re Sam’s but at least they’re clean which is more than what I can offer you of mine and I can’t talk to you when you look like that.”

Dean could feel his face heating up as he spoke and he could practically feel Cas’s eyes burning holes into the side of his head. It was still strange for Dean to wait for Cas to do trivial things like getting dressed because he used to be able to perform those tasks instantaneously. Dean counted to thirty in his head and slowly turned around to face Cas. He was met with sullen eyes and a familiar head tilt.

“What would you like to know?” Cas asked.

“You’ve spent the last couple weeks with my s-- Ben. With Ben. I guess my question is… how? You know, since you wiped his memory years ago… I just… how?”

“Well, I suppose it’s best if I start at the beginning. I don’t have all of the answers that I’m sure you’re wanting but I can explain how this all started.”

Dean bit off his words as his shackles rose. “That would be great. Thanks.”

“The day that you last saw me, your phone rang while you were taking a shower and I figured that it was probably a hunter with a lead so I answered it. The voice on the other end of the phone seemed confused by my informal greeting. They thought that they had called the authorities because to their recollection, that was who they had programmed as number one in their speed dial. As you might have guessed, that person was Ben.”

Understanding flooded Dean’s mind and made him feel dizzy. When he sat Ben down to have the “monsters who go bump in the night talk” all those years ago, he told him to program his cell as his number one speed dial because if anything ever came for Dean’s family, it wasn’t likely to be a run of the mill boogey man that the authorities were equipped to deal with. But Ben hadn’t needed Dean for years. Ben hadn’t  _ called _ Dean for years, which was a good thing because that meant Ben had been safe and didn’t need any kind of intervention by authorities to ensure his safety… until now, when Ben tried to call 911 and called Dean instead. His palms were sweaty and he felt like he was going to blow chunks all over the floor until he felt Cas’s steadying hand on his shoulder.

“When I realized he thought I was a cop, I donned the FBI persona that you’ve taught me and I assessed his situation. If I thought it was something the authorities could handle, I was going to make the appropriate phone calls and let them handle it but based on the information he gave me, he was dealing with something paranormal. It may seem like I panicked in the moment but I knew that you were going to have questions that I couldn’t answer and I knew Ben didn’t have the time. I was in my truck and on the road before I had even gotten off the phone and it’s a good thing I was,” Cas said while pointedly looking down into the washing machine at his bloody clothes. He closed the lid to the machine and turned fully to face Dean.

“I don’t imagine that you’re going to give me details on what you found once you got there, are you?”

“No, I’m not. However, I will tell you that I healed him of all of his physical injuries and despite my hesitancy, erased his memory of me being there at all. He’s fine, Dean. I assure you.”

Dean released the lungful of air that he didn’t realize that he was holding. “I wish that I could say the same.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. When I wiped Ben and Lisa’s memories, their minds were cleared of you as a construct but the data held in Ben’s phone…”

“I get it, Cas. Mea culpa and all that bullshit, right?”

“No, Dean, that’s…. Anyway, I may have ‘accidentally’ misplaced Ben’s phone before I left so that he would have to get a new one and we wouldn’t run into this situation again. I know you miss him Dean, but I also know that you’ve stayed away from them for their safety. I did my best to honor your wishes.”

“Some part of me knows that you did the right thing. I’m just going to need some time to absorb all of this. I understand why you did what you did, but it still isn’t sitting well with me. Ben used to be just as much a part of my family as Sam so I just… I just need a minute.”

“I assumed as much.”

“But don’t you dare take off like that again without a single clue as to where you went,” Dean spoke sternly with a finger jabbing into Cas’s sternum.

“Of course, Dean.”

As if somehow Sam could sense the end of their conversation, a knock was placed on the other side of the door followed by, “Dean, why is this door locked? I know you’re not doing laundry because all of your clothes are on the floor out here.”

Dean turned a mischievous look to Cas. “And as my own form of punishment for you worrying the shit out of me for three weeks… you get to deal with Samsquatch the Nosey Giant. You answer his questions just like you answered mine.”

Cas looked unbothered by the request but Dean didn’t have the time to be frustrated by that because Sam started knocking on the door harder. “You have ten seconds to open this door or I’m kicking it down, Dean! Ten… nine…”

Dean unlocked the door and flung it open. Sam stumbed a bit when his raised fist hit nothing but air in absence of the door. Dean let every bit of his annoyance bleed through his expression. “Calm down, Samantha,” Dean said before gesturing a pointed thumb over his shoulder toward Cas, “Look who’s home.”

Sam’s eyes widened marginally when they landed on Cas. Confusion shadowed his face caused either by the mysterious appearance of their friend or that fact that said friend was wearing his old clothes rather than his usual “holy tax accountant” get-up. Sam directed his inquisitive eyes at Dean.

“Don’t ask me,” Dean said as he raised both hands in surrender, “Cas is more than capable of answering any questions you might have about his whereabouts. Right, Cas?” He looked over his shoulder at Cas only to find two tired and annoyed eyes on his face.

With a defeated sigh Cas said, “Of course, Dean.”

“Okay, great! I’m going to go make myself a sandwich. You know how much I love a post-siesta sandwich.” Dean shot a faked toothy grin at Sam and Cas and headed for the liquor cabinet rather than the pantry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stick with me, please! For all you dirty birdies, this fic WILL include smut.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean’s mind kept racing in one big fucking circle. Would-a, chug, could-a, chug, should-a, … Ben. That’s what was at the center of the circle. Dean had always been an advocate for giving people choices. Life is all about choices. Where you end up in life is dependent on the choices you make and he took one of Ben’s choices away from him. Ben could have had a dad. Dean could have been that for him. Ben could have chosen a life in hunting, but he didn’t because he doesn’t remember the talk he had with Dean all those years ago about the creatures that are really hiding in the shadows.

Dean took that all away from him. When asked, he says he did it to keep Ben and Lisa safe, but in reality, he did it for selfish reasons. He did it so there would be two less things that the bad guys could use against him. Ben paid the price for that. Dean should have let them choose whether they wanted to take risks for him or be set free but he took that away. He thought that would keep them safe and that he could live his life without worrying about them but Ben wasn’t as far out of his life as he had thought. All of this was because Dean was an idiot and didn’t think to take his information out of Ben’s fucking cellphone. Screw this self deprecating bullshit. He was going to drink until he didn’t care about his mistakes or anyone else’s, or at least that was the plan until Sam walked in and snatched the newly opened scotch out of Dean’s hand.

“That’s enough, Dean. I understand that it’s been a rough day but I promise that you’re going to thank me when you wake up  _ without  _ a hangover. Now sit down,” Sam encouraged.

“I really hate you sometimes,” Dean grunted as he exited the room and sank into one of the chairs at the map table. Sam followed within a matter of moments and just sat across the table from Dean with an assessing look on his face. The sound of footsteps were followed by the appearance of Cas and at the sight of him something strange shifted inside Dean’s gut. He didn’t know what to say to the angel and he couldn’t tell the angel didn’t know what to say to him.

“So…” Sam started hesitantly, as if he could feel the awkwardness pulsing in the room, “this was an open and shut case. Right, Cas?”

“Yes. I believe…”

“I’m sorry. Are we really referring to what happened as an ‘open and shut case’?” Dean snapped.

“If Cas took care of it the way he said, then that’s what this was Dean,” Sam reasoned.

“If that’s what you believe, then you obviously don’t understand why I felt the need to drown myself in alcohol. I wasn’t drinking because of the overwhelming relief that Cas came home after three weeks of being in the wind, I-”

“I thought you  _ were  _ relieved that I came back to you,” Cas said with a hint of dejection in his voice.

Something about those words struck a chord in Dean. Something sounded so possessive about the words, so affectionate. Sam was there too but Cas came back  _ to him _ . Dean’s thoughts dissolved into mental pictures. He saw Cas standing alone in the laundry room bare chested and vulnerable. He was hurt and tired but he came back  _ to Dean _ . Everything about that moment was so real for him. He felt so many emotions all at once and for a split second, he couldn’t bring himself to care about how he was obviously aroused by the sight of his best friend.

An obviously fake cough from Sam brought Dean back to the present. His brother was looking at his expectantly and Cas was looking at him with the infamous head tilt as if he could tell that Dean had gone someplace else in his mind. That thought made Dean squirm in his seat which brought attention to the fact that his memories shook him up to the point of getting a chubby in front of his brother and… fuck.

“Screw this. I’m not doing any of this. At least I’m not doing it while I’m this sober,” Dean pushed himself out of his chair. Luckily, his robe was thick enough to mostly mask his arousal from wandering eyes. After storming off to the hallway where he had dropped all of his clothes and picking out the least offending garments from the pile, he was grabbing his cell and making a beeline for the stairs.

“Where are you going, Dean?” Sam asked with his innocent puppy dog eyes.

“I’m going somewhere to drink and make bad choices where I won’t be lectured like a petulant child.” 

“You’re too drunk to drive. Let me give you a ride,” Cas offers, already taking a few steps toward the stairs.

Dean looks at Cas with thinly veiled indignation. As if Cas thought Dean was going to let him drive him anywhere, let alone someplace he was only going to escape his blue eyes and chiseled abs and  _ nope. _ “I’ll take an Uber, Mother Teresa. I may be well on my way to being shitfaced but I’m not an idiot.”

Cas kept his feet planted where they were but his face hardened and all traces of sympathy drained from his expression. “Stay safe, Dean.”

“Don’t wait up.” Dean huffed before he slammed the door behind him and took off walking to a pick-up spot that was a mile down the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this chapter being so short. This spicy stuff is coming. Just wait! As always, your comments and kudos are much appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

Flashback to the present: Dean’s alone on the side of the road, shitfaced and self - loathing as ever. He doesn’t have his car and even if he did, he isn’t going to be able to keep her on the road. As it is, he can hardly keep himself standing on his own two feet. He has three options: call Sam or Cas to get his sorry ass, call an Uber, or walk the two miles back to the bunker. Option one is definitely out. He doesn’t want to deal with Sam’s pitying eyes and even though he’s too drunk to pop a boner in front of Cas right now, he’s absolutely drunk enough to do something that he’ll regret. Option two means that he’ll have to deal with some random stranger named John, Jane, or Karen and he absolutely can not deal with a Karen right now. A Karen is the last thing he needs in his life even for the few minutes it would take to get to the bunker by car.

He starts off on his trek to the bunker, reluctant in his decision to walk while blind drunk. He stumbles into a ditch a few times and skins his knee but the pain is numbed by the liquor and he arrives at the doors to the bunker relatively unscathed. He finds his brother and his angel… no not  _ his _ angel, just an angel.  _ Damn it, Dean. You’re not helping yourself _ . Anyway, he finds Sam and Cas in the same place that he left them: sitting at the map table. Sam has his laptop open and his face buried in a book while Cas just appears pensive as he stares off into nothing. That is until he notices Dean walking (more like falling) through the doors at the top of the stairs. His expression immediately turns to one of concern but Dean can’t bring himself to be upset about it considering that he’s distracted by a shiny ring floating above Cas’s head.

“Dean, are you okay? What are you looking at?” Cas asks with his signature head tilt.

“No, I’m not okay, I’m drunk as fuck and I just walked two miles because of you, you lying-ass motherfucker.” Dean says with hardly any heat considering he’s slurring his words and can’t help but to smile dopely at the bright object above Cas’s head.

“I never once fucked my- wait, what did I lie about? Is this about Ben? Dean, I did that for you.”

“No, this isn’t about Ben. It was really nice of you to protect my son.” Dean chokes on his last word but then starts giggling and singing "Sonny Boy.” Good Lord, he can’t stop himself.

“Okay so what did I lie about?” Cas says with extra emphasis in order to break through Dean’s drunken haze.

“You said that you didn’t have a halo but you do!” Dean exclaims and points to the space above Cas’s head. Cas visibly flinches and pales at Dean’s words.

Dean’s excitement pulls Sam’s focus off of his book and onto the bizarre conversation that’s happening in front of him. He gets up and puts a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

“Dean, there isn’t anything there.”

“Get the fuck off of me, Samantha. It’s right there.” Dean looks back at Cas with unfocused eyes. “It’s really pretty too.” he says shyly.

Sam starts to protest but before he can start much of an argument, Cas’s hand is grabbing hold of Dean’s sleeve. “I think I can help him, Sam. It seems that he’s drunk a potentially lethal amount of alcohol and I’m going to need to cure him or he’s only going to get worse.” Castiel says the words as he’s pulling Dean toward the hallway that leads to Dean’s bedroom.

_ Castiel has no idea how to properly respond to what is happening to him right now. He didn’t intentionally lie to the Winchesters about his halo. He knew the logistics of the angel halo and he just never thought it was worth the hassle of telling people how halos actually work. It was easier to just let humans believe that angel halos were mythical. _

_ The truth is that the only people who can see an angel’s halo are those who are perfect soulmates, usually angel pairs but in Cas’s case, it’s Dean. Dean is the only one who can see his halo. That’s why Sam was so confused but Cas couldn’t tell him that, not before he explained the situation to Dean or before he himself fully understood what was happening. What was so truly puzzling to him was why all of this was happening now. Why hadn’t Dean been able to see it all along? Whatever. He isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. _

_ Now to the problem at hand: how is he going to explain to Dean what the significance of seeing an angel halo is? _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: NSFW

Dean stumbles, Castiel holding onto his arm tightly. If Dean were sober, he knows he’d probably be dealing with a lot of conflicting emotions in response to Cas dragging him to his own bedroom, but he finds himself too entranced by the gold ring floating above Cas’ head. Sure, he’s always teased Cas about having a halo, but actually seeing one is an entirely different experience. When Cas finally brings Dean to his room, he closes the door and sits him down on the edge of his bed.

“What’s it made of?” Dean asks intelligently.

“I- grace? I’m not sure. Dean, we need to talk ab-”

“It’s so pretty,” Dean smiles, repeating his prior comment, “How do you have a halo and not tell us? That’s amazing, Cas!”

“Thank you, but we really need to discuss what this means,” Cas says, trying to keep himself calm as possible.

“Cas, it means you… you have a halo and you’re super angely!” Dean hiccups in the middle of his sentence, giving Cas a dopey grin, “And you didn’t tell us! Can I touch it?”

“You’re drunk,” Cas responds, trying to ignore the implications Dean unknowingly brought up.

“And the sky is blue and angels are dicks. You’re only a dick sometimes.”

“Thanks,” Cas responds mildly, “But... you’re… seeing things, Dean. That much alcohol will do that to you. That’s why we need to talk.”

“Cas, I’m not that drunk,” Dean slurs as if his claim isn’t belied by… well, everything about him.

“You are. It’s… you should rest.”

"Didn’t you say I had a… lethal amount?” Dean asks before letting out a loud snort, “A few shots isn’t gonna do me in, buddy.”

Cas takes a moment, “How about I sober you up and then you can rest? I’m sure it’s just because you’re drunk,” he attempts, trying to convince not only Dean, but also himself that Dean is only too intoxicated to distinguish between what’s real and what isn’t. Cas knows better. Dean is smart, but he also figures it might be better to deal with everything in the morning.

“Okay!” Dean agrees (thank God), and Cas places a hand on his forehead. With the glow of his grace and a burst of an icy-hot feeling through Dean’s body, he’s sobered up. Dean blinks a few times, adjusting to the fact that the room is no longer looking quite as wonky as it did seconds prior. He looks up.

“Uh.. Cas?” Dean asks.

“Yes, Dean?”

“The halo’s still there,” Dean states, and Cas knows he has to give an explanation. Dean fixates on the halo, less of a drunken blur and more a delicate ring balanced above his head, glowing a soft shade of gold. He rubs his eyes, he knows- knew- assumed that Cas was telling the truth.

“It is?” Cas all but squeaks out, his voice weak. He’s always known about their bond, he’s even said the words aloud himself, but the fact that Dean is seeing his halo is an entirely new wave of reality crashing down on him.

“Yeah. So… do I get an explanation? I’ve never seen a halo on you, Cas,” Dean says, reaching out to touch it. Cas jerks back like Dean’s biting him and Dean looks at him.

“Are… are you okay? You look like you’re freaking out,” Dean states. He’s glad that he isn’t hungover but the entire situation is taking form as a dull ache in his head.

“I- okay,” Cas sits down, clasping his hands together in his lap. Dean’s brow furrows.

“What is it, Cas?”

“This is… a predicament,” Cas begins. Dean nods for him to continue, “Angels do have halos, yes. We say that they don’t exist because it’s much easier to explain than the entire dynamic with them.”

“Alright, so… what’s the big deal?”

“Angels… some angels have pairs. Or… well, in terms easier to understand, angels have soulmates.”

“Uh huh.”

“Those soulmates are generally other angels.”

“Uh.. uh huh?” Dean begins, and he thinks he knows where the conversation is going but he’s afraid to say it. Thank God for Cas, who seems to be on a roll because he’s clearly speaking without pondering his words for too long.

“Angels can only see their soulmate’s halo. And- I mean- their own, but…” he trails off. Dean blinks once, then twice.

“So-”

“Yes, Dean,” Cas says, looking down at his lap.

Dean swallows thickly, looking at Cas’ profile. He’s gorgeous, the soft light of the lamp highlighting his features and providing a sort of golden outline around his figure. Dean takes a few moments, allowing his brain to process what Cas was saying.

“So… we’re… we’re pretty much made for each other, right?” Dean attempts. Cas looks at him immediately, eyes widened at Dean’s receptiveness to the bombshell he had just dropped. He was expecting more anger, possibly lashing out, not the quiet acceptance that Dean was handling the situation with. Cas clears his throat hoarsely.

“Essentially, yes,” Cas responds. “The Bible tells the world that I fell in love with humanity. I guess that sentiment was more literal that I originally presumed.”

Dean breath catches in his chest but he can’t help but crack a small smile at Cas’ declaration, nodding.

“So… does that mean that we’re technically _meant to be?_ ” Dean offers. Cas nods, reciprocating Dean’s small smile.

“Yes,” Cas replies. Dean’s gaze slowly rises to his halo once more, almost transfixed by it.

“Can… can I touch it?” he asks, his tone hesitant. Cas takes a moment.

“I’m not sure what will happen if you do,” he says honestly, “But if you’re willing to find out, then so am I.”

Dean nods, standing slowly and walking in front of Cas. He reaches a tentative hand out, slowly bringing it closer to Cas’ halo before making contact. There’s some sort of shift, so sudden that Dean hardly realizes what it is until Cas is moving. It takes Dean’s mind a moment to realize that the strange rush from touching his halo is definitely some strange form of arousal and Cas wastes no time when he feels it. He stands up quick enough that Dean can practically feel the mini blackout from Cas, and then Cas is kissing him. Dean responds immediately, opening his mouth and letting out a desperate noise when Cas' tongue licks into his mouth. Dean never thought that the first time kissing Cas would be so intense. He always pictured a slow start building into something bigger, but this is something else, something he couldn't even imagine dreaming about. Instinctively, he raises his hand again to curl in Cas’ hair before getting a better idea.

Dean’s touched the halo once, why the hell not?

He curls a hand around it, noting that it almost feels like metal. It's hot but it doesn’t burn him, it just makes him feel more alive. His knees nearly buckle and Cas makes a sound that’s hardly even human, slamming Dean into the nearest wall. Dean doesn’t let go, a hand on Cas’ back, pulling their bodies closer together. Dean feels the breath being knocked out of him, but that becomes a lot less important because Cas is kissing him again, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth and frantically trying to pull his shirt off of him. Dean feels bad after Cas struggles for a nearly embarrassing amount of time, placing his hand over Cas' and tugging his shirt off, breaking the kiss to catch his breath. Cas is moving back in as soon as he can, his hips pressing dangerously close to Dean’s.

“Holy fuck-” he breathes as soon as Cas lets him pull away to breathe before giving him a wicked smirk, grabbing the halo tighter. Cas cries out, the breathy tone confirming that it’s from pleasure and moves even faster, latching onto the side of Dean’s neck and sucking a bruise into the skin. Cas’ hands are grasping Dean’s ass with absolutely no finesse but his enthusiasm is turning Dean’s brain to mush. He takes a moment to thank whoever is listening that Cas had time to change back into his regular clothes while he was at the bar. He doesn't think he'd be able to have sex with a man wearing his brother's clothes. Dean pushes the trenchcoat off of his shoulders with his free hand, not once removing his vice grip from Cas’ halo. When he sees Cas’ suit jacket underneath, he mentally curses Cas’ inability to wear under five articles of clothing at any given moment, tossing that to the side too before working on the buttons of his shirt, finding he’s doing better unbuttoning things with one hand than Cas is with two.

“Gorgeous-” Cas says, his voice hoarse. Dean flushes at the compliment, only trying to unbutton his shirt faster. As soon as Dean gets the chance, he pulls the button up off of Cas’s shoulders and immediately runs his hand over the newly-exposed expanse of skin. He skims his fingers over muscles and sharp hip bones, dipping right under the waistband of Cas’ slacks. Cas is working on the button of his jeans, struggling once more but managing after a few torturous moments. The only sound in the room is their shared breaths and the occasional whimper from Cas whenever Dean’s hand tightens around his halo, and that quiet remains until they’re both stropped to their underwear.

Dean feels Cas falter, unsure of what to do next. Dean takes the reins, only for a moment, and grinds their hips together. Cas resumes his movements, grabbing Dean’s free wrist and pushing him further into the wall. Dean can feel the outline of Cas’ cock through his underwear, ignoring the minute tremble of his legs. He pulls Cas back in for another kiss, somehow each one is more fervent than the previous, trying desperately to get any friction between them. There’s a pooling in his gut like molten lava, simmering from the inside out,.and Dean loves it. Cas is getting more impatient, his movements more frantic and Dean can tell that he’s going to finish if they don’t get the show on the road.

“Under my bed- there’s a shoebox. Lube in there-” Dean gasps as Cas grazes his teeth over the shell of his ear. Cas doesn’t move other than using his free hand to grab the lube he decided to waste his grace to zap over. He pulls back enough to give Dean a moment to survey his body. As expected after a hunt, Dean sees a few minor scrapes and bruises littered among his torso. Right under his ribs on the left side of his stomach is a tattoo, still somewhat fresh. It’s healed but the lines are smooth and Dean recognizes the language is Enochian. Cas doesn’t seem to notice Dean’s fixation on it before he speaks up.

“What is it?”

Cas looks at himself briefly, “A protection spell,” he says, using his grace to squirt some lube into his hand, “I can translate it for you when we’re not busy.”

At Cas’ reminder of the situation, Dean remembers his aching dick and agrees. Cas pauses for a moment when he sees Dean’s underwear. Dean is about to squirm out of his grip and undress when suddenly he’s naked and so is Cas, a quick glow of grace being the only sign of where their boxers had gone.

“Thought you said you wouldn’t use your grace for laundry,” Dean smirks. Cas gives him a look, lifting Dean’s leg with a sturdy arm before pressing a lubed finger to his hole. Dean jerks away for a moment from the cold, Cas steadying him quickly.

“Well,” Cas says, applying just enough pressure to make Dean acutely aware of where exactly Cas’ finger was going, but not pushing in, “I think I can make an exception for this situation,” he says before finally pushing his finger in. Dean squirms at the initial discomfort. He’s confused by how slow Cas is moving before recognizing the slow drag as pleasure, realizing that if Cas moves any faster he’d probably be in pain. He mentally thanks Cas for having the foresight to not hurt him, taking about a minute before nodding.

“Go ahead-” he breathes, and Cas complies. He picks the pace up, maintaining it for a few lingering moments before smearing some lube on his middle finger, pressing it in alongside his pointer. Dean takes a shaky breath, rocking back on his fingers as much as he can. Cas keeps the slow pace up before starting to hook his fingers. Dean is confused for a moment before Cas runs his finger over his prostate, barely recognizing the bundle of nerves had it not been for Dean’s surprised moan. Cas hits the spot again, watching as Dean twitches and lets out small gasps, clearly holding back. Cas presses himself closer and Dean can feel Cas’ cock against his hip.

“Moan for me, Dean,” he says, “Your sounds are beautiful.”

Once more, Dean goes a rosy pink at the compliment before relaxing a bit. When Cas adds a third finger, rubbing them against his prostate, he throws his head back against the wall with a loud moan. Cas smiles before pulling his fingers out and using his grace to clean them up and subsequently lube him up. Cas lets go of Dean’s wrist in favor of placing his arms behind the backs of Dean’s knees, lifting him up. Dean’s arms are starting to burn from holding himself up by the halo and Cas’s added support underneath him has him sighing in relief. Dean’s angled awkwardly but too excited about what’s to come to find it in him to complain. Cas presses the tip of his cock against Dean’s entrance before giving him a grin.

“Would this count as stabbing you?” Cas asks. Dean takes a moment to process the question.

“Fuck yo-” he begins before Cas is pushing in, cutting himself off with a wrecked noise. He breathes hard and Cas smirks wider while he waits for him to adjust.

“I’m actually the one fucking you, but go off I guess” Cas supplies helpfully. Dean rolls his eyes playfully.

“First of all, stay the fuck off of Twitter. Second of all, I hate you,” Dean laughs, relaxing a bit. Cas smiles.

“No you don’t,” he says.

“No, I don’t,” Dean agrees with a smile. It’s a very inappropriate time to feel butterflies but Dean’s also holding onto an angel’s halo who’s balls deep in him, so he lets the moment linger.

“Alright, hurry up and fuck me, you asshole,” Dean says, brushing his pointer finger over the side of Cas’ halo to egg him on. Cas lets out a moan at the touch, laughing lightly.

“Again, I think it’s your ass-” Cas chuckles.

“Shut. Up,” Dean accentuates each word by forcing as much weight as he can down onto Cas’s heavenly hardness. Cas lets out a surprised noise. Dean notices a certain glint in his eyes before Cas is finally fucking him for real. Dean lets out a surprised noise as Cas begins to move, clearly wasting no time and immediately pounding him, not that Dean is complaining. He lets out a few desperate noises, clutching onto Cas and pulling on his halo. Cas lets out a moan of his own at the tug, resting his forehead on Dean’s shoulder. They’re both covered in a thin sheen of sweat and Cas can see Dean’s tattoo out of the corner of his eye, but he’s more focused on the sounds Dean is making and the fact that Dean feels like absolute heaven.

Well, Heaven had nothing on Dean, in Cas’ opinion.

Dean lets out a few breathy moans out before all but screaming when Cas hit his prostate, clawing desperately at his back as Cas fucks him with a newfound intensity. Cas moves to readjust and after nearly dropping Dean (“If you drop me, I’m going to fucking murder you,” Dean said, his eyes wide from the near-fall), he sets a rhythm that’s was deeper than before. Cas lets out a few moans, lifting his head from Dean’s shoulder and looking him in the eye.

“I’m close-” Dean breathed. Dean tightens his legs around Cas’ waist, grinning before grabbing his halo in a firmer grasp.

“Then cum for me,” Cas responds, leaning in to kiss him. Dean let out an undignified noise, and after a few more precise thrusts, Dean’s seeing white, wrapping his legs impossibly tight around Cas;s body, When he comes down from his orgasm, Cas stops fucking him, still breathing hard.

“Cas, you know you can keep going, right?” Dean asks.

“Are you sure?”

Dean nods. Cas slowly picks up his pace once more, listening to Dean’s little noises and twitches from the overstimulation. It isn’t long before Cas is back to his prior speed, Dean is practically sobbing from how damn good it feels. It doesn’t take long before Cas’s thrusts become sloppy and he freezes, pushing in as deep as he can before biting his lip hard, letting out a muffled moan of Dean’s name as he comes. Dean and Cas were both breathing hard, Dean lets go of Cas’ halo as they both make small noises from the excess pleasure. Cas set Dean down, both of them laughing a bit as Dean’s legs almost immediately give out and Cas has to rush to catch him.

“Would it be appropriate to use my grace to clean us up or would you rather we take a shower?” Cas asks.

“A shower sounds nice but I also wanna cuddle,” Dean weighs his options, “Heal yourself the rest of the way first and if you still have grace, clean us up.”

Cas nods and Dean watches as his wounds all close. Can then snaps his fingers, cleaning them both up and retrieving their underwear. They both got their boxers on before Cas drags Dean to bed. Dean immediately moves to spoon him and Cas relaxes into his embrace.

“Didn’t take you for a big spoon,” Cas says.

“Didn’t take you for a little spoon,” Dean smirks. Cas laughs, lightly intertwining their fingers.

“I’m a spooning switch,” he grins. Dean rolls his eyes.

“Where’d you learn that? Porn or Twitter?” Dean teases.

“Yes,” Cas responds and Dean can’t help but let out a small cackle, pulling the blankets over them.

“You should really let me touch that halo of yours more often. It’s definitely a good idea.”

“If you ever touch it in public we’ll get arrested for public indecency,” Cas responds. Dean yawns.

“Sounds like a good Friday night to me,” Dean responds sleepily. Cas smiles softly.

After a few too many beats of silence Cas whispers, “I didn’t think that I could do that.”

“Do what?”

“I told you I was saving my grace and I meant it. I really didn’t think I would be strong enough to use my grace for pleasure and still have enough left over to heal myself.”

“So why did you?” Dean asks, curiously.

“I… I can’t be sure but I think our soulbonding revitalized my grace,”

“So sex gives you more angel juice? That’s pretty cool!”

“Not just sex, Dean. Soulbonding. In Lamens terms, only sex with you will aide in the recovery of my grace.”

Dean kisses the back of Cas’s neck and Cas can feel the smile buried in his hairline. “Teamwork makes the dream work, babe.”

“Indeed it does, gohed boaluahe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gohed boaluahe= "eternal love" in Enochian
> 
> My co-creator and I would like to apologize for the use of the phrase "heavenly hardness." It was written as a joke but it kind of stuck so... whoops.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave me your comments. I promise that I will read them all. My goal is to update twice a week.


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